


Of Oak and Mistletoe

by Kagetsukai



Series: We're not in Kansas anymore [5]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avvar, Avvar Cullen, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mistletoe, Satinalia, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 21:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13132686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagetsukai/pseuds/Kagetsukai
Summary: Sooo.... I may have stolen Shannara's Avvar universe and decided to play with it for a moment :) It was a lot of fun to see things from Cullen's POV and I'm rather happy how it came out. Happy Satinalia dear!!!





	Of Oak and Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShannaraIsles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShannaraIsles/gifts).



> Sooo.... I may have stolen Shannara's Avvar universe and decided to play with it for a moment :) It was a lot of fun to see things from Cullen's POV and I'm rather happy how it came out. Happy Satinalia dear!!!

The forest always felt calm and mysterious right after snowfall and this time was no different. Cullen carefully tread on a forgotten path that only his people knew, an unknown desire tugging at his heartstrings to keep going. He had his furs around his shoulders, so no matter how much the temperatures dropped that evening, he would be comfortable.

As he stepped into the clearing, he stopped to admire the view before him: there stood the largest tree he had ever seen, an old oak that dominated the space around it and demanded the attention of whoever would pass by. It had stood in this same spot for centuries, millennia even, and Cullen’s people, his ancestors, have deferred to its wisdom for the time immemorial. It did not matter which Avvar tribe came to give tribute, Grandfather Oak blessed everyone equally.

There was something different about it this night, something magical and otherworldly. No night birds came to call and no predators stalked the shadows. Cullen stepped closer, knowing that something special was about to happen.

Out of the shadows of the tree trunk came out the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on and she pierced him with a look that shot straight through his heart. Rory. She smiled softly as she moved closer and he desperately wished to reach for her; still, he waited for her to come to him. She wore what looked like a white nightgown, but thicker, and leather boots that protected her from the snow on the ground. Her hair was unbound and it spilled over her shoulders in waves of auburn he adored so much. During the day, she was his captured bride, a woman he claimed as his own, but this night, she was bathed in moonlight and crowned with fire, a goddess of his hearth and the queen of his heart.

“Rory,” he finally said, his throat tight with emotion.

She looked up at him with eyes like starlight, deep grey and twinkling and filled with joy.

“Cullen,” she replied, her voice bright like a bell. “Do you like it?”

She reached into her hair and that was when he finally noticed a delicate wreath wrapped around her head, green with tiny white berries, which he recognized immediately.

“Mistletoe?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “Why?”

A mischievous giggle escaped her mouth as she moved away from Cullen and towards the tree.

“I was told your people have a number of traditions for when Satina is in full bloom,” she called out to him. “I thought it would be appropriate to honor your gods properly, the way you’re supposed to.”

He followed her then and watched as she pressed her back against the ancient tree trunk, her hair and gown fanning out before him. She looked splendid, ethereal even, and he felt unworthy to touch her. He briefly looked up, noting the bright light shining from the two moons occupying the sky. This was truly a night of magic and wonder.

“And which tradition has caught your eye, my little flame?” he asked, already suspecting what her answer would be.

A small, clever tongue darted out of her mouth and moistened her lips. Cullen followed that motion with hunger that already woke in his veins; it did not take much to stir his loins for this flame-haired woman.

“I want to give you a son, Cullen,” she announced softly, her smile both coy and hopeful. “I beg you, fill me with your seed as Grandfather Oak stands witness to our joining and blesses us with prosperity for years to come.”

The words, bold and sure, shocked him still and made his blood roar in one go. Someone must have told her exactly what to say in order to start the ritual and he was amazed that she’d go so far to please him. He desperately wanted to ravish her, make her his again, make her screams be heard for miles around them, but first, the gods had to be appeased. He stepped up and bowed with reverence before her and before the tree that would bear witness to their act. Still gentle, he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, her eyelids, and her lips.

“I accept your offering, Rory, and I pray to Rilla to hear our cries as we commit to bring this ritual to fruition.”

The moment the last of his words left his lips, he descended upon her like a starved man who was given a splendid meal. Her mouth opened to him, soft and warm and inviting, and he groaned at the feel of the heat that emanated from her being. His hands would not stop for nothing as he pawed through the gown at her flesh. He would rip it off her, if not for a small part voice at the back of his head that reminded him it was wintertime and he did not wish to freeze a woman who offered to be the mother of his child.

Still, he knew her body from the long nights of their first few months together so it did not take long to find her pebbled nipples. He rolled them roughly with his fingers and felt a sense of pride as Rory broke the kiss to let loose the most delicious moan.

“You are beautiful, Rory,” he murmured into her ear and nipped at the skin he found there.

“Cullen,” she whimpered wantonly and the sound made his cock twitch.

“Soon, lass. Soon,” he soothed her with a kiss against her pulse.

The next few moments were a lesson in patience, as he continued to grasp any part of her flesh he could get while her clever hands worked on unlacing his leather pants and palming at his growing ardor. Before long, he was free from the confines of fabric, springing forth into her waiting hand; he was heavy and leaking, and really couldn’t wait to be enveloped by her undoubtedly wet cunt.

Cullen kissed her mouth then, both demanding and gentle, and they smiled at each other as if sharing a secret.

“Don’t forget to scream loud enough for the gods to hear you,” he reminded her quietly.

With deft hands, he reached to pull up her gown and grasped her thighs just under her ass. Rory wasn’t all that heavy so it took no effort at all to hoist her up and against his core. She dutifully wrapped her legs around his waist and shuffled around to make sure no extra fabric sat between them. Their bodies were singing with desire and would not be denied.

He shifted then and dropped her just enough to slide his aching cock into her waiting heat. It was glorious to feel her like this, deeply and unabashedly, with only the gods as the witnesses of their passion.

How could a man hold back when the woman he was with was as unparalleled as his flame-blessed Rory? He drove into her repeatedly, brutally almost, eliciting the kind of noises she would never have let fly in their keep. Her voice rang clear in the frosty air of the forest and Cullen revelled in its beautiful cadence. Soon another voice joined hers and it took him a moment to recognize himself, all ragged, and animalistic, and on the verge of falling.

“Rory,” he groaned with difficulty.

She must have understood his meaning, because she canted her hips a little and suddenly her pitch changed, growing even more in volume and intensity. Cullen watched, mesmerised, as her mouth fell open, her eyes screwed shut, and a mighty scream escaped her mouth. It was his cue to increase the speed of his hips against hers, flesh slapping against flesh with ferocity that only rivaled his battle rush. His entire pleasure narrowed to a pinpoint and then it broke, spilling over the edge and into Rory’s waiting womb. She clenched around him, both unwilling to waste a drop of his seed and unable to move even one exhausted muscle. 

They heaved their breaths together, mingling into one, and Cullen smiled in triumph. He pressed his forehead to hers and grinned. 

“That was…”

“...perfect,” she finished for him. She smiled a very satisfied smile and planted a soft kiss against the scar on his upper lip. “Remember, Cullen. You have my blessing.”

\+ + + + + + + + + +

Cullen’s eyes shot opened and he immediately listened for the sounds of the night; years of training as a warrior taught him to wake quietly and pay attention to his surrounding. Slowly, his mind reminded him that he was within the keep, within his home, in bed with… Rory. She lay curled against him, her back firmly pressed to his chest, as his arm snaked protectively around her naked body. They made love earlier in the night, he remembered now, and the memory of it brought a smile to his face. He had pressed her into their bed, face down, and had covered her body completely as he rocked himself into her tight, tight heat. It had been glorious and…

The memory of the dream reasserted itself and Cullen frowned. 

He had no doubt the dream had been prophetic in some way and he would ask Dorian for details in the morning. For now, he gently trailed his hand down to her flat abdomen and pressed a palm to where her womb would be. They had shared a bed for months now yet nothing had come of it thus far. He had worried something could be wrong with either of them, but with the gods clearly blessing him with such a vision, he was sure Rory would carry his child soon.

For the moment, his cock ached something fierce and it did not help that Rory’s perfect ass rubbed against it with every involuntary thrust of his hips. He shifted a little more and she finally stirred awake.

“Cullen?” she murmured sleepily.

Her voice did nothing to calm his blood so he angled himself just right so with the next press of his hips against hers, there would be no mistaking of what he wanted.

“My body never stops craving yours, lass,” he grumbled against her shoulder and he felt her shiver.

She chuckled at his words, but didn’t say anything to refuse him. Instead, she shifted one of her legs just enough to grant him better access and rolled her hips against his cock. Not needing to be told twice, he grasped himself and slowly pressed into her waiting body. He was surprised to find her wet and clenching around him. Had she also been dreaming of their joining? He was too busy drowning in the sensations of her heat to ask a single question.

Instead, he gently rocked his hips against hers, for the first time in a long while truly savoring the act of their joining. His arms wrapped around her, tightly, and she gasped with every move that pressed her closer to him. It felt like forever, the way they made love to each other, and Cullen’s heart swelled with joy. He wanted this; he wanted to have this until his dying days and he would fight anybody who would try to stand against them. 

Their end came after what felt like an eternity, unannounced and unexpected. His orgasm rolled through his body as a choked cry escaped his mouth and he barely noticed that Rory’s voice joined his in chorus. It took a moment for him to realize that they had come together, in unison, like a couple blessed by the Lady that he thought them to be. A tender smile bloomed on his face, invisible to the woman in his arms, and he sighed to himself with a bone-deep satisfaction. Perhaps it hadn’t happened yet, but he knew that one days his beloved would grace him with a gift of a child and all would be well in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! Comments and kudos are love.


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